


Turning Leaves: A Collection of Fairy Tales

by aro_fox



Category: Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:41:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21899095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aro_fox/pseuds/aro_fox
Summary: Fairy tales are an oral tradition, meant to be retold and reformed again and again, always new. But with current forms of media, fairy tales have stagnated into something almost copyrighted; there are certainties for each tale that cannot be deviated from.This work was not meant to change this. This work began as simply me telling a fairy tale to myself. My only goal was to write a fairy tale that I would enjoy reading. And then one story became two, then three...Now, I am publishing this small collection in the hopes that others may enjoy them.May you find a new retelling of a familiar tale as exciting I have while writing them. Let's turn another leaf.
Kudos: 1





	Turning Leaves: A Collection of Fairy Tales

Once there was a maiden named Eliza, who lived with her seven older brothers in a house that was always too small, and with a table that was always too bare. While the brothers spent their days cutting wood in the forest, Eliza worked tirelessly spinning, sewing, and knitting, for she sold the finest needlework in the village, and was always busy.

One afternoon, the brothers encountered a lost youth in the forest, and helped him back to his father’s hunting party. To their astonishment, they discovered that the youth was a prince of the neighboring country. The king thanked the brothers generously, but his wicked wife much less so, for when they entered the forest they found themselves turned into seven geese for their trouble. With a flurry of wings and feathers they flew away, honking indignantly.

When her brothers did not return for seven nights, Eliza packed a satchel and went off in search of them. She journeyed deep into the forest, until she found an old cottage, where she decided to stay the night. But no sooner did she lay down her satchel than seven geese burst through the door, and with the last rays of sunset, were transformed into her brothers.

Quickly they told their sister of their plight, and how they must remain as geese for the rest of their lives, save for a quarter of an hour after sunset. There was nowhere to turn for help, for they dared not come to close to villages, for fear of being eaten, nor stray near the palace, lest something worse befall them.

Eliza asked if there was a way to free them of their curse, and the brothers confessed that they had asked that question of the North Wind, but the answer was too difficult to consider.

Their sister persisted, until reluctantly the brothers admitted that to break the spell, she must not speak a word for seven years, and knit seven shirts of nettle yarn, gathered and spun by her own hand. And all the while, no soul could be told of the curse, or the reason for her actions, lest all should be in vain.

At this, their quarter hour was spent, and once again the brothers were turned to geese. Yet Eliza’s heart was moved, so the very next morning she awoke without a word, left the little cottage in the wood, and began to gather nettles.

Thus she passed four years in the forest. She lived and worked alone in the solitary cottage, save when her brothers returned in the spring and summer with stories of warm and distant lands. Then, for a quarter of an hour each evening, Eliza would knit silently as they told her of all they had seen, and be content.

One autumn day, when the leaves were bright and her brothers had flown, Eliza sat knitting in her garden when a fine greyhound bounded up to her, licking her hands and hair. In the next moment, a beautiful young prince rode up to the fence, took off his hat, and asked for leave to enter. She gave him a little nod, and in he walked, stepping carefully around a thistle patch.

He made ever so many apologies, for his hound and for his intrusion, but she would not speak a word in response.

The prince was intrigued by the silent knitting maiden, and henceforth would often visit her little cottage while hunting. During the autumn, he brought her dried meat and new boots. During the winter, he brought her firewood and warm cloaks, and begged her to come home with him. Eliza thought of her brothers returning home in the spring, and of their fear of the wicked queen, and so she shook her head very often. Then came one evening in February, when the cottage was frightfully cold and the loneliness was unbearable, that she nodded her head and put her hand in his. With the thistle yarn in one basket and the half-finished shirts in another, the prince set Eliza before him in the saddle, wrapped her in his cloak, and took her home to the palace.

Eliza was given rooms of her own, with a wardrobe of fine gowns and a fireplace that was always warm, but her greatest gift was the prince himself. He patiently taught her to read and to write, and together they would converse late into the night with hand signs and parchment. In this way the prince learned that Eliza returned his love, and when the first apple blossoms appeared that spring, they were married, and the flower petals fell like snow onto her hair.

Now, the wicked queen resented her new daughter-in-law, and knew by her silent knitting what she was about. She tried to convince the prince that his wife was a witch, but though he did not understand Eliza’s work, he did not doubt her good intent, and defended the maiden from the queen’s cruel remarks.

For all that the queen did to spite Eliza, the prince’s kindness repaid it tenfold, and the palace became her home. Yet the warm weather brought with it a longing for her brothers, and for her little cottage in the wood. She begged the prince for leave to ride up into the forest, which he granted, on the condition that she return before nightfall.

Eliza rode into the forest, and found her garden running wild, the thistle patch overgrown, and goose feathers strewn inside the cottage. Nevertheless her spirits were lifted, and she set to work at once- tending the garden, harvesting the thistles, and sweeping the floors until she quite forgot the time, and the sun began to sink into the west.Then, as the last of the sunlight wove through the trees, she watched with joy as seven geese flew down from the sky to land in the nettle garden, where they transformed into the brothers. But the reunion was an unhappy one, for the brothers would heed none of Eliza’s hand signs, and were angered that she would abandon them for the palace that was the cause of their curse. They spoke so fiercely that when their quarter hour was spent, they were changed back into geese mid-sentence. In a great storm of wings they flew away again, leaving Eliza in tears.

The prince, who in distress had ridden into the forest at dusk to search for Eliza, found her weeping in the cottage, and by signs she told him that her brothers had forsaken her. Then his anger left him in a heartbeat, and he held her close and consoled her. When her tears were spent, he offered to stay the night at the cottage by her side, but Eliza begged to be taken home to the palace, so the prince led their horses away through the dark woods, and Eliza did not look back.

Summer, then winter passed, and the next spring, Eliza gave birth to a son. Both she and the prince were overjoyed, but their happiness was short-lived; for in the dark of night, the wicked queen hid tiny nettle leaves in the cradle, and blamed Eliza for the red rashes that covered her child. Eliza herself was mortified, convinced that she had been careless with her nettles, and set her knitting aside to care for the little prince.

In the summer of her seventh year of silence, Eliza redoubled her efforts on her knitting. Six shirts lay neatly folded in her basket, and the seventh was nearly finished, when the king suddenly took ill, and died. While Eliza comforted the distraught prince, the wicked queen pronounced that the king was murdered with poison and witchcraft, for he bore the telltale red rash of stinging nettles, and a vial of poison was discovered in Eliza’s basket.

The prince, now crowned as king, could no longer ignore the accusations against his wife. With a heavy heart he ordered Eliza to be locked in a tower to await trial. Without her child or her knitting, she wept bitterly, and slept little.

The trial was brief, and harsh. Eliza professed her innocence, but the wicked queen’s evidence was too great, until both the prince and his counsel were forced to sentence her to burn at the stake the following dawn.

That night, there was the sound of wings outside the tower window, and a goose slipped the basket of shirts into Eliza’s cell. With frantic, fumbling fingers, Eliza worked blindly through the night to finish the final shirt. When at last the executioners came to lead her away, she took up her basket and brought it with her, for that morning marked the final day of the seven years, and only the seventh shirt was only in want of casting off.

Eliza was led to a crowded square, where she was tied to her pyre, and her basket set beside her. The prince could not bring himself to order her hands bound, and so as he pronounced her sentence, she worked frantically, finishing her work as he spoke. With the last knot, she seemed overcome, and her tears wet the sleeve of the final shirt. In the waiting silence, she signed her love to the prince. His heart breaking, the prince signed back in kind, and watched in agony as a torch was set to the kindling beneath her feet.

Then suddenly there appeared seven geese in a great gust of wind, and together they flew to the pyre and beat out the flames with their wings. Eliza flung the seven nettle shirts over the geese, who were at once were changed into seven youths that freed their sister of her bonds. Above the astonishment of the crowd, in a clear, ringing voice, Eliza proclaimed her innocence, and the spell on her brothers to be broken. The prince rushed to her side and knelt at her feet in shame, but Eliza raised him up, for it was a time of joy, and held him close in forgiveness.

As quick as Eliza’s trial had been, the wicked queen’s was quicker still, for she was responsible for the brother’s curse and the old king’s death. She burned at the pyre the following dawn, and no tears were shed at her demise.

But Eliza and the prince lived happily together with her seven brothers, and they and their children ruled fairly and justly over a prosperous kingdom.


End file.
